


draw me in

by pricklyteeth



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Blowjobs, Dancer AU, Enby Jongin, KaiXing, Life Drawing AU, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, NOT IN FRONT OF MY WASHING MACHINE, Nonbinary Character, Other, So much flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 10:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pricklyteeth/pseuds/pricklyteeth
Summary: Architectural design major Yixing gets roped into taking a life drawing class by one of his professors because he's experiencing artist block. Jongin is the nude model for his class who doesn't like it when the class is too quiet.Yixing indulges him in more ways than one.





	draw me in

“Where the fuck-“ Yixing whispers under his breath, digging through his pencil case, looking for his favorite (only) 2B pencil. They’re already starting on the 2 minute poses, though they’re loose and casual, but he’s not trying to miss any of them.  
  
“Maybe check behind your ear?” The model—Jongin, their instructor had said—suggests from their perch in the middle of the room.   
  
It’s not a very big classroom; the sound doesn’t have to carry far. Yixing is almost too surprised the model was paying attention to him to check if it’s the right pencil (it is). 

“Ah, thanks.”  
  
He gets to working, carving out the basic shapes that make up Jongin’s body, checking the proportions by holding his pencil up to his form before starting on the details. Something about getting back into the basics is comforting to him; as an architectural design major, he’s spent a majority of his time working on screens and constructing spaces. Here, it’s all pencil and paper, and the creation and synthesis is just a study of the human form; one that already exists.  
  
It’s a nice way to get back in touch with reality, he guesses. Professor Kim was probably right about forcing him to take this class to get out of his creative rut. The timer blips and Jongin shifts back from the position he was in, hands behind him as he leans back into them, legs parting.  
  
Confident, Yixing thinks to himself. He guesses you’d have to be if you were going to be a nude model for art students.  
  
“Your class is so quiet,” Jongin directs to Professor Kim, although they don't look over at him, probably wanting to maintain the integrity of their position.  
  
Their professor pauses in his little circuit around the classroom, trying to be available to anyone who might need help or guidance. This is an intro class, after all. “Jongin is right. Feel free to pester them with questions; they love the attention, and we’ll get to bond as a class.”  
  
"So you go by they/them pronouns—why?" Someone starts, and Yixing sighs internally.

"I'm a nonbinary trans person," Jongin responds easily, although Yixing is sure being constantly questioned about your gender identity is probably irritating at best, exhausting and degrading at worst. "I'm a demiboy, and he pronouns are okay, but I feel like they/them pronouns fit better, and kind of make people acknowledge that I'm not a cis dude."

The student asking looks like they're not completely satisfied with that answer, so Yixing speaks before it starts getting hairy.  
  
"So what made you start modeling for drawing classes?"

Jongin seems to brighten up a little at that, letting out a laugh. "Oh, you know, the usge. Struggling art student."

Their self-depreciating sense of humor is something the class seems to appreciate.  
  
Yixing thinks Jongin has cute teeth. "So instead of a strip club—?"

Jongin seems to appreciate the teasing, stomach clenching as they try to restrain giggles. "Yeah, I thought stripping down for life drawing classes would suit me a little better. I'm comfy not wearing clothes, but I hate clubs, I hate the lights, I hate getting touched by strangers in general, no one is actually dancing-"

"Do you dance?" Yixing's interest is piqued now, forgetting his original purpose of just diverting the conversation a little. Of course, not everyone who gets annoyed at clubs is annoyed because they’re actually dancers themselves, _but_.

Professor Kim laughs. "You've gone and done it now, Yixing."

He looks over to his professor, not understanding, but the timer blips then and Jongin is switching over to the table, laying on their stomach, chin resting on the palm of his hand, looking for all the world focused on Yixing.

"That question has a long and a short answer."

Yixing pulls down his sleeve to make a show of checking his watch. "We've still got an hour thirty, I mean, unless anyone has anything else they've been meaning to ask?"

He takes a cursory look around at his classmates for effect, and Jongin seems charmed. "It appears the floor is yours."

"Well, it all really started before I was born," Jongin begins, appearing to be serious, before breaking into a grin when the class begins to chuckle.

"Okay, well, it probably did, but I'm not going to go that far back," Jongin amends. "For me, dancing… dancing is like breathing. It's like my body's painting, you know? I work with a lot of mixed media, and like, art is my life, but I don't think dancing is any different for me? It's the same kind of expression, it's just presented a little differently?"

"I feel that," Yixing responds, nodding and feeling respect for Jongin and his take on art, how he links the expressive quality of its creation with dance.

He pencils in Jongin's eyebrows before going on. "I used to dance, too. Sometimes I'll get invited to the odd comp or jam or hiphop class on a weekend or something, but it's been a long time since I've really hit the studio.”

"For me,” he continues, pausing as he searches for the right words, ”my art has always been about control and technique—I guess that would apply to how I dance, too. Everything is always-" his brows furrow, sketching in the fullness of Jongin's lips, eyes flicking between his drawing and Jongin's face. "clean lines, building space, tension and precision. I feel like that's what drew me to architectural design. I love a good puzzle."

Jongin sits up as the timer goes off, a look on his face that Yixing misses because Professor Kim comes up behind him to lay hands on his shoulders.

"And that's why I made you take this night class—because your art is getting stuck in puzzlespace. Sometimes there's more wiggle room than you think."

 

  
Yixing starts looking forward to his life drawing class, despite the fact that he continues to sass his professor about not needing it. Professor Kim's right though, focusing on another field and style with its own modus and objective is weirdly helping him design better.  
  
It also doesn't hurt that their model is kind of hot and they just kind of flirt the whole time.

He feels a little guilty for coming home after the first class to jack off to the image of Jongin sucking him off, and like, he knows as a good artist, he's not really meant to be having gross prepubescent fantasies about his subject, but he honestly would just enjoy fucking him, probably regardless of how they had met.  
  
Although Jongin just so happening to be completely naked when they just met means Yixing doesn't have to imagine much.

 

He's working on a design project, sketching on his wacom pad, when he gets a notif on his phone. It's Taemin, a dance friend he's met through a couple comps.

  
Leetaem:  
whats up dude! i haven't seen u in forever:(

zyyxx:  
sorry .n. been busy with school

leetaem:  
there's a jam coming up!!! next weekend, it's pretty laid back.  
a couple friends organized it, so it's not really going to be too big, but it should be fun !  
pls come:(

zyyxx:  
let me know! that would be cool, i probably need a break from school tbh

leetaem:  
:D<3

zyyxx:  
miss u bro 

leetaem:  
miss u too ;(((<3

zyyxx:  
<333

 

With that, Yixing shuts his phone off, turning his attention back to his work. It'll be fun, he tells himself.

 

The next life drawing class, Jongin isn't there. Instead, they have a serious model who doesn't smile much and spends the entire time looking at their professor. Yixing doesn't really mind, but he misses Jongin.

It was much more engaging and fun with him, and Yixing finds himself not finishing the poses, wondering what Jongin is up to—Professor Kim had only explained that they had personal matters to attend to.

He doesn't try to worry too much about it because Jongin will probably be back next week.

Jongin doesn’t show up the next session, but they do the session after that, and the whole class seems to have more energy with their presence—which is funny because class hasn't even been in session for all that long.

"Did you all miss me?" Jongin asks, robe sliding off his shoulders before he moves to hang it up on the coat rack, walking over to sit on the table.

"I think _someone_ missed you a little more than the rest of us did though, Jongin," snorts Amber, leveling her eyes over at Yixing.

Yixing feels his face redden, and tries to will away the blush.

He's too embarrassed to notice that Jongin's cheeks are flushed too.

"So..." Jongin tries to start, getting into a comfortable pose. "What's everyone been up to since I saw you last?"

And the moment is lost, the awkwardness giving way to conversation.

 

He's packing up after class, about to hike his backpack over his shoulder, when he feels a hand at his forearm.  
  
Jongin's in their robe now, eyes looking earnest and _hopeful,_ and something inside of Yixing clenches. He never wants to take that look from Jongin's face.

"Um. hey, I was, I was wondering, if you weren't doing anything right now, if you wanted to grab a coffee or a tea or something—"

Yixing looks down at their robe before looking back up at them, holding back a smile. "Did you really wanna go in _that._ "

Jongin smacks Yixing in the stomach with the back of his hand. "I have clothes to change into, asshole."

Jongin stops then, blinking as he processes what Yixing said. "Is that a yes?"

Yixing bites the inside of his lip, nodding.

"Yeah."

 

 

“Is it weird that it’s weird for me to see you in clothes?”

“Probably, but I wouldn’t hold it against you. You haven’t seen me in anything else.”

They’re at a nearby café, open until the wee hours of night for students suffering through projects. It turns out that Jongin mostly hates coffee, so he opts for a strawberry iced tea instead, while Yixing gets an iced latte.

"So why do you hate coffee again?"

"It tastes like ass? I honestly don't know why it exists."

"Try this one, it's not a dark coffee."

Jongin reaches over, taking a sip before making a face. "It's not terrible, but it's not... Good."

Yixing shrugs, taking another sip. "I like it."

"Does he really expect me to kiss him with that taste in his mouth," Jongin says aloud to no one in particular.

Yixing huffs out a laugh. "Who said I was expecting a kiss?"

Jongin turned to the side, as if narrating to an invisible audience. "The date was going incredibly poorly; Jongin wasn't sure if they liked Yixing anymore."

Yixing laughs, bewildered, reaching over to hold onto their forearm. "What is Yixing supposed to say, how does he save the date?"

Jongin continues to look away with put upon disdain. It's adorable. Yixing leans over their tiny table to kiss Jongin's cheek, moving to kiss the corner of his mouth when he feels Jongin holding back a smile.  
  
He's about to kiss him full on the lips but his belt catches on the lip of Jongin's drink and it spills all over his lap, Jongin gasping before setting it back on the table.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry-" Yixing apologizes, pushing the table out of the way to dab away as much iced tea as he can with napkins, not realizing he has his hands on Jongin's crotch until it's too late.

Jongin, however, doesn't look displeased at all. He reaches for Yixing's hands to still them, waiting for Yixing to look at him.

"Napkins aren't gonna get it done, babe. How about you let me use your washing machine and you can get your hands on me for real?"

 

 

Jongin's mouth is a million times better on him in real life than in his head.

Their eyes don't leave his once as they slowly trace around the head of Yixing's cock with their tongue, giving him a wet kiss there before taking him into their mouth. Yixing’s hips jerk up at that, fingers tightening around the edge of the washing machine.  
  
Jongin moans around his length, eyes fluttering shut, blowing him like it's the only thing they want to be doing.

They look up blearily when Yixing runs his fingers through his hair, jacking Yixing off where they can't reach as they swallow down over him, reaching down to grab at themself.  
  
Yixing doesn't know what's hotter; Jongin's mouth on his dick, or Jongin getting off on having their mouth on his dick. He groans, feeling Jongin swallow over him, salivating all over his cock, lips slick with spit and pre, red and puffy from the way he’s using them.  
  
Jongin pulls off a little, dragging their tongue up underneath Yixing’s cock as he does so, eyes flicking up to catch Yixing’s glassy gaze before going back down on him, catching his cock in his cheek so it distends obscenely.  
  
Jongin whines a little, hand over themself speeding up as he swallows back down over Yixing, desperately turned on and needing release.  
  
At the sensation of Jongin’s throat swallowing down around him as they let out little whiny moans, working their mouth over him, Yixing hips jerk forward, Jongin gagging a little and coming all over his fist, come getting on Yixing’s bunched up pant leg and onto the washing machine.  
  
It’s the realization that Jongin came and is still sucking him down with a sleepy kind of need that does it for Yixing, hand coming up to warn Jongin.  
  
But instead of sliding off, they hold onto his thighs, swallowing him all the way down, a needy groan escaping as Yixing releases down his throat, hot and sticky streams of come.

Jongin swallows as much as they can, chest heaving and eyes shining as they pull off, come dribbling out of their mouth, lips spit-slick and shiny.  
  
Jongin looks like a mess and Yixing doesn’t know if he’s seen anything sexier.  
  
He’s pulling Jongin up so he can kiss them, though they’re both still panting into each other’s mouths. Jongin just kinda slumps into him, kissing back lazily, content.

“Wasn’t I supposed to be getting my hands on you?” Yixing asks, smiling into their mouth.  
  
Jongin nips at his bottom lip, flicking his tongue at the cleave there. “Ah, that’s right, isn’t it? Guess you’re just gonna have to return the favor.”  
  
Yixing’s hands are already sliding down Jongin’s side, going to jack Jongin slowly, once, twice before sucking Jongin’s lip into his mouth. “Mmm. Poor me.”  
  
  
  
They end up against the door jamb, Jongin leaning forward, face pressed to Yixing’s neck, whimpering as Yixing tugs them in tandem, hips flush.  
  
Then, he’s eating Jongin out, sprawled out and spread open on his countertop, because they got hungry and Yixing said he had leftovers, and Jongin kept bending over to see what he had in the fridge.  
  
They fuck in the kitchen before moving onto the couch, Jongin biting down on a pillow because Yixing’s roommates are still asleep, before they finally make their way to Yixing’s bedroom. It’s about to be dawn, and they both have classes in three, four hours, so they crash, Jongin’s face nuzzled into Yixing’s chest.  
  
  
  
  
“We keep meeting each other like this.”

It’s the night of the comp, and even though they’ve been texting back and forth since Jongin stayed over, they never actually got to talking about weekend plans, too busy sending each other animal pictures, complaining about school, or sexting.  
  
Which explains why Yixing had no idea he’d be seeing Jongin at the comp.  
  
Before he can really register he’s doing it, he’s reaching for Jongin, fingers fisting in his shirt before he pulls him into a kiss, only pulling away just enough to touch his forehead to Jongin’s. “Hi.”  
  
“Hi,” Jongin murmurs back, all traces of their flirty, playful attitude lost now. There’s something so soft, so earnest about the way Jongin takes to him, and it makes Yixing so _fond._  
  
“Alright, no need to introduce the two of you I see.” They break apart, looking a little guilty under the streetlight. Taemin just laughs.

“What’s the story, how did I not know my best friend knows my Xingy?”  
  
Jongin scrunches their nose, apparently not liking the sound of that, setting their foot atop the cooler they’d set down when they’d seen Yixing coming out of his car. “It’s just school—Yixing’s in the life drawing class I model for.”  
  
“Mm. I’m not sure if ‘I strip for this one art class and now one of the students and I bang’ is just an ‘it’s just school’ story.”  
  
Jongin kicks his leg in Taemin’s direction, who dodges with a shit-eating grin on. Yixing is just enjoying the exchange, a little fascinated by the way Jongin and Taemin interact with one another, so different from the way Jongin acts with him.  
  
“And besides,” Jongin adds, defensive. “I’ve seen Yixing before. Was a comp when I was still injured and I couldn’t dance.”  
  
Yixing blinks at that. “You never mentioned you recognized me from one of these.”  
  
Jongin stuffs his hands into his pockets, feeling shy. “It never came up,” he mumbles.  
  
Yixing chuckles, squeezing at Jongin’s hip before he leans over to pick up the cooler.

“We should probably start getting set up, huh,” he asks Taemin, who nods, shifting the speakers in his arms.  
  
  
  
  
The jam ends up being bigger than Taemin led him to believe, but relatively speaking, it’s pretty small, compared to most comps. Usually people bring along friends or dates, but it mostly seems to be just dancers.

There’s some b-boys, and Yixing only gets a couple of their names over the thumping of the music—there’s Minghao and Daniel, he catches. They start off breaking, someone named Jay already killing it on the floor they’d set up in the tennis court, windmilling up into a handstand on his elbows, shuffling there before he drops into a wu tang, the rest of the dancers erupting at his bravado.  
  
Yixing’s always loved watching breakers. He’s done it a couple times, and it’s really exhilarating. He’s not sure if he’d come out tonight, though. Not to break at least, he’s been out of it for too long.

He’s introduced to a couple of new faces when he goes to grab another drink, dragged over by Taemin to his circle of friends.

“This is Jimin, who you know, Sungwoon, who you’ve definitely seen before, and Moonkyu and Taehyun who I’m not sure if you know, and Jongin, who you definitely know on probably too friendly a term,” Taemin introduces, gesturing to each friend as he does so, snickering as he gets to Jongin.  
  
Yixing nods his head at the circle of them, glad it’s dark out and all they have is the overhead lights on top of the court. He figures his blush isn’t too noticeable. “Hello everyone. Jongin.”  
  
They break into some catcalls and friendly jeering, but seeing Jongin get shy too, smacking an arm at his friends, is worth it. He reaches over to squeeze Jongin’s elbow to get their attention.

“Hm?”  
  
Jongin shouldn’t be this beautiful, just turning to look at him, but he is. Yixing has to bite his lip to keep from kissing him. “I’m gonna get something to drink, you want anything?”  
  
They lean over on one leg, whole body tilting as they hold their own thumb, looking up as they think about it. “Mm. peach soju? An angry orchard? Something fruity.”  
  
Yixing smiles at that. Jongin would. “Okay. Be back in a flash.”  
  
The cooler is over by where the music is set up, just a cheap card table with a laptop, a mixer and some cables. Yixing’s not sure why they put the drinks by the electronics, but he figures they’ll be okay since everyone is mostly hanging out by the dancing anyways.

Kibum and Jonghyun are handling the music tonight, and he’s glad to see some more familiar faces.  
  
Kibum notices him just as he notices them, handing off music duties to Jonghyun before he’s slipping his headphones down around his neck, coming over to wrap an arm around Yixing’s shoulders.

Yixing nods over to Jonghyun as a greeting, who just smiles and blows a kiss over before he drops a transition to a slow build.  
  
Kibum just starts playing with Yixing’s hair, looking down at him from the height difference his platforms give him. “So, long time no see,” he starts, picking up the peach soju in his hands. “Really?”  
  
“It’s not for me,” Yixing laughs, having missed how nosy Kibum is. Always is.  
  
“Ooh, new boy?” Kibum lifts a brow, pulling back from fussing with Yixing’s hair.  
  
Yixing smiles, taking the soju back. “Something like that.”  
  
Kibum’s eyes flick over somewhere behind him. “Is it Jongin?”  
  
“Why do you say that?” Yixing frowns, about to turn to look before Kibum’s arm on his elbow stops him.  
  
“Because he’s coming over, looking like murder,” he whispers quickly under his breath, before he tilts his head, lips drawing into a smile. “Hey, Jongin!”  
  
“Kibum,” Jongin greets, voice low, clipped. This is the closest he’s ever heard to Jongin being hostile.  
  
He turns to him then, a question in his eyes as he reaches for the bottle in Yixing’s hand. “This is for me, right?”  
  
Yixing nods, wanting to push away the insecurity he sees in Jongin’s eyes. “All yours.”  
  
Kibum clears his throat. “Anyway, Eunki and Minki are voguing, so that’s my cue. I’ll leave you two to. Your thing.”  
  
He turns, making his way over to the floor where a couple of people Yixing doesn’t know are, in fact, voguing, and Yixing feels bad for making Kibum feel out of place. Kibum doesn’t feel out of place anywhere; no matter the situation, he’s always unapologetically himself.  
  
Yixing’s eyes flicker after Kibum for a moment before turning to Jongin. “What was that?”  
  
“What was what,” Jongin asks, opening his drink.

“When you… with Kibum… He never backs away or just leaves because it’s awkward. He doesn’t _care._ ”  
  
“He was touching my stuff,” Jongin huffs, taking a swig. Even with how sweet the soju is with peach flavoring, Jongin’s nose scrunches a little.  
  
Yixing laughs, a little disbelieving. “So I’m your stuff now?”  
  
Jongin just smiles at him, something mischievous. “Maybe.”  
  
Yixing grabs them around the waist then, pulling Jongin to him, swinging them around as they splutter, spilling soju as they wriggle in Yixing’s grip, giggling their dolphin laugh. Jongin is so sensitive everywhere, he thinks. His neck is probably ticklish too.  
  
He moves to blow at Jongin's neck, and he absolutely _shrieks._ Yixing feels like he shouldn't be so pleased about this since his own neck is probably just as if not more sensitive, but the way Jongin pushes away from him, red in the face but holding back a smile, makes him feel unapologetic.  
  
Jongin is so beautiful like this, silhouette backlit by the stadium lights, breathless and indignant about being teased.  
  
Jongin's chest is still heaving a little, but they're taking Yixing's hands, eyes bright, pulling, pulling. "Dance with me," Jongin breathes.  
  
And Yixing can't say anything but yes. How could he say no?  
  
  
Jongin drags him into the circle, and their proximity to the speakers transforms the music from a dull pulse in his chest to a live thrumming underneath his skin, and he’s already itching to _move._    
  
Kibum is just slinking off as the song transitions into another one, looking smug as he heads back to where he’d left Jonghyun, and before anyone else can step onto the floor, Jongin bursts from the circle, some bizarre explosive combination of a jeté to a barrel turn into a dizzying series of chaîné turns before they circle back, every isolation of their limbs a liquid kind of tension and release. Jongin is so beautiful like this.  
  
But then Jongin is in front of him, dragging their finger along his jaw, lips nearly brushing against his, calling him out. He can’t help but break into a grin, body just a live wire as he slides forward onto the floor on his knees, doing isolations to ‘pull’ himself up from the ground, limbs snapping and locking in ways that are so familiar despite the fact that it’s been awhile.  
  
The way they dance is so different; Yixing stays close to the ground, every movement, every release of tension a kind of contained explosion that always comes back to his core. Jongin dances upwards, outwards. Jongin floats around him, into his space, before they’re somewhere else. Jongin moves like liquid limbs where Yixing is razor sharp, everything is precise and clean.  
  
Somehow they gel, and it doesn’t feel so much like they’re dancing to show each other up, but to complement one another, like some kind of perfect asymmetry.

The circle around them is raucous, only egging them on, and Jongin gives him no space, making him drop down so he can fan kick over his head, though Yixing sits as if he has a chair beneath him, one leg crossed over the other in a figure four. He has his finger pressed to his lip as he puts on a show of watching Jongin’s leg arc over him before Jongin drops to sit on his lap, though they’re supporting most of their own weight since all of Yixing’s weight is on one ankle.  
  
Jongin throws their arms over Yixing’s shoulders before leaning in to kiss him, nice and slow, and the circle around them roars.

Yixing is fairly certain his heart does something similar.

The music begins to segway in another direction and Jongin makes a show of dragging their fingers across their bottom lip as they stand before offering Yixing a hand, expression smug as they lead him away, out of the circle and over in the direction of the parking lot.

The whistles and catcalls are so loud Yixing hears them when he falls asleep that night, Jongin’s face pressed up against his neck.

 

  
  
They kind of fall together after that.

Jongin keeps finding reasons to hang out. Like earlier today, when he asked Yixing to come over to their apartment because they want to paint on him.

Yixing ends up picking up a brush too, slowly tracing a bright red circle around Jongin’s left nipple as he fucks up into them, every drag drawn out, punctuated by sharp snaps of his hips.  
  
Jongin scrapes their fingers down over their work, uncaring at this point of what it looks like anymore. It had been a painting of their profiles, of Jongin riding him, and when Yixing had asked why, they’d said it’s what they wanted to be doing, and well, here they are.  
  
Jongin looks so good like this, bottom lip between their teeth and brows furrowed, working down over him. Yixing can feel their thigh flexing under the hand he has there, tracing paint along their collar and up along their neck with the brush he has in the other. He lets the brush travel up Jongin’s jaw, angle toward their lips, before he lets the brush drop from the corner, not wanting to actually make them eat paint.  
  
Their tongue dips out then, a smile playing over their lips even though they’re unwinding inside, dropping down onto him to crush their mouth against his, grinding back while rutting into Yixing’s stomach. Yixing can feel the paint transferring from Jongin’s chin to his own, and it makes him smile into their mouth.  
  
Jongin is so messy. Yixing tells them as much, later when they’re both covered in paint and come, and they just squeeze around his cock, still inside, telling Yixing that he loves it, though.

Yixing can’t help but pull him down again, kiss away their smug little smile, suck at Jongin’s full, full lips. They’re not wrong.

 

  
  
Jongin teaches Yixing about the beauty of organic symmetry and accepting messes as integral to art through his body, through the way they exist.

They talk about the beauty of the ephemeral, the ungraspable. They mumble about the dust motes the morning sun reveals, stripes of light painted down the lines of their back, lips pressed up against Yixing’s throat.

They talk about the beauty of organic forms, of curves and nature and biology existing outside of rules and boxes, Jongin kissing at Yixing’s curly curly hair and down the slope of his forehead.

“Not everything beautiful is straight lines,” they say, touching their foreheads together. “Not everything beautiful is about fitting exactly together. Sometimes it’s just the point of connection itself.”

 

  
Jongin makes Yixing come to his ceramics studio to see the project he’d been working on over the sem, and it’s basically just the bust right now, but it’s definitely him.

There are a couple of interesting features though.  
  
“Why do I have so many eyelids? Also is there a reason I have webbed fingers and claws, or am I not finished yet?”  
  
Jongin smacks him with what looks like a spatula. “You’re an alien hybrid here, okay? My theme for all the independent stuff I’m working on is concept art for a future space colony.”  
  
“And you were so inspired by my presence you decided to make a character in my likeness?”  
  
Jongin leans over to nip at his neck. Yixing’s glad they’re working in a part of the studio sectioned off from the rest of the students. Jongin is so handsy. “I just wanted to have an especially sexy one, okay?”  
  
“I’ll take whatever compliments I can get.”  
  
“Mm, what a good muse I have,” Jongin hums.  
  
They put him to work soon enough, slipping an apron over his head, getting him to bring him different tools, cups of colored slip before he can settle down to watch.  
  
“Can you just-” Jongin tilts Yixing’s head then, fingers on his jaw. “I need to fix your face, I did this all by memory.”  
  
Yixing hums, trying to bite back a smile. “This is cute.”  
  
“What,” Jongin asks, brows furrowing a little as they adjust the figurine’s features, eyes flicking between Yixing’s cheek to the clay body’s.

“We met because you’re a model for the life drawing class Prof Kim made me take, and now I’m modeling for you.”  
  
Jongin smiles at that. “Was it fate or was it because we’re both just Very Pretty?” they wonder aloud.  
  
Yixing rolls his eyes, even though he’s smiling. “It could very well be both.”

Despite the fact that they were both wearing aprons, they still manage to get clay residue all over their clothes.

But, seeing as they only had the life drawing class to attend later, they figured this was probably a good enough reason to go back to Yixing’s and bang while they waited for their clothes to come out of the wash. Jongin thinks it's a splendid idea. Yixing does too.

  
  
Later, Yixing’s tracing the lines of Jongin’s body the way he draws him into paper, Jongin following with a finger to the lines of his face. It’s not all that different, but it is.

Yixing thinks he likes this kind of art better.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to come yell at me, say hi, show support or are just curious, links to cc and twt, etc are on my [carrd](https://pricklyteeth.carrd.co/)! im friendly i promise


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